


i'll be your daydream i'll wear your favourite things

by lilliputianmerriell



Series: there is a house in new orleans [2]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-03 00:10:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15807357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilliputianmerriell/pseuds/lilliputianmerriell
Summary: Light greys and blues ripple with his every move, the fabric of his dress moving smoothly as he sways across the stage.





	i'll be your daydream i'll wear your favourite things

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 of Sledgefu Week. Prompt: Artist AU. 
> 
> Title from The Chainsmokers ft. ROZES' "Roses".
> 
> This fic set after Lady is a Tramp, but it can be read and enjoyed without having any prior knowledge of this verse.

Merriell’s heart was racing with exhilaration, pumping adrenaline through his body as he spun across the stage. The song was a slow jazz that fitted his raspy vocal cords nicely, and he only needed to add a hint of that breathlessness that made it just androgynous enough to suit the visual illusion he’d created.

Light greys and blues ripple with his every move, the fabric of his dress moving smoothly as he sways across the stage. Each step was carefully placed, deliberate. He’d tripped enough of times in heels to know not to be too bold with his movements.

As the last verse of the song comes to an end, Merriell twirls before stopping abruptly on the spot, his dress’ train flaring out dramatically around him. His heart is hammering loudly in his chest, almost loud enough to tune out the final, smooth notes of the piano that flows through the small venue.

Merriell spends the coda to catch his breath focusing on the way the material of the dress constrict against his heaving chest rather than the multitude of eyes on him. Being on stage made him feel alive like nothing else could after the war and distracted him from those horrifying images that appeared behind his eyelids every time he blinked, but he didn’t like this part afterwards when things came to a halt and people could pick his illusion – his armour – apart if they stared hard enough.  

Polite clapping follows as the music tapers off, and the pianist gets up to grasp his hand delicately as if Merriell actually was a lady as they take in the modest applause. Merriell doesn’t mind the gesture, it added to the feminine persona he was trying to portray and made it more convincing, made him appear less like another queer in a cheap wig and pretty dress.

His eyes search the small crowd until they land on the person sitting in the far back, his red hair standing out from the rest despite the dim lighting of the club. The sight makes Merriell’s heart jump happily in his chest and tilts his lips upwards in a careful smile.

When the club goes back to quiet chatter and the many eyes are no longer interested in him, Merriell steps off the makeshift stage and slides over to the ginger man lounging in the leather chair. His hips sways as he walks, and he can see how Eugene’s eyes appraise his long legs exposed by the slit reaching halfway up his thighs. The heated stare makes Merriell's cock twitch against the tight underwear that was helping keeping it tucked away.

Unashamedly, Merriell plops down into Eugene’s lap and plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek, leaving a dark lipstick mark in his wake. He might have had a couple of drinks before his performance that made him so openly affectionate, but Eugene doesn’t seem to mind as he grins wide in response. It was nice to be able to do this in semi-public with people who similar to them, it felt good and safe and normal.  

“Hey,” Eugene greets and kisses Merriell affectionately. He tastes like whiskey and tobacco.  

“How was your day?” Merriell asks and steals the tumbler away from Eugene’s fingers, taking a long sip of the strong, smokey liquor that glides down his throat smoothly.

“Long,” Eugene says, “Been in the library studying for most of the day. I have so much work for this one class, I’m pretty sure my professor is a sadist.”

Merriell snorts the most unladylike laugh, making Eugene’s mouth tilt up in the softest of smiles as if pleased with himself.

“In fact, it was the thought of seeing you perform tonight that got me through,” Eugene says, the soft smile never leaving his face, “The show was good. You were good.”

“You really thought so?” Merriell purrs, giving Eugene a teasing look through long, dark lashes.

Merriell can feel Eugene’s eyes carefully examining his face. He’d seen Merriell paint many times now, though he never seemed to get tired of the process. Merriell hadn’t wanted him to at first, had insisted it’d ruin the illusion, but Eugene was undeterred. He claimed it was bewitching to watch him manipulate his features into something so delicate and feminine using the little makeup he had. He was almost more intense about it now, as if seeing Merriell paint reassured him that it was still Merriell behind the armour.

“Yeah. You’re always good, always gorgeous,” Eugene says breathlessly and captures Merriell’s lips with his own once more. It doesn’t take long before Eugene’s lips latches onto Merriell’s neck and he pushes at Merriell’s bra straps to get better access to his collarbone. It’s intense and passionate. Too passionate for anywhere but the privacy of their bedroom, not matter how accepting the secret underground club was. It was a true testament to how much Eugene’d had to drink that night, as Eugene only ever got this handsy if he’d had a sip too much of what he could handle. By the way Eugene was mouthing at every exposed expanse of Merriell’s skin, it didn’t appear that he was going to be stopped by a few curious eyes on him either.

“Gene, not here. We can’t,” Merriell says and gently tries to push him away, his hands spread out on Eugene’s broad chest.

His heart is beating rapidly underneath Merriell’s touch, and Merriell finds himself distracted by the hammering until Eugene licks a broad, hungry stripe across delicate, dark skin, making Merriell gasp in surprise and arousal despite himself. His cock twitches painfully underneath his dress.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Merriell breathes raggedly, finding his resolve crumbling quickly until he finds himself petting Eugene’s hair to get his attention, “My dressing room. Now.”

“Really?” Eugene voice sounds unusually hopeful, reminding Merriell too much of that boy he’d met at Pavuvu all those years ago.

“Greg will ban you forever if you fuck me in front of all his customers.”

Merriell expects Eugene to reply cheekily how they’d all like the display, but instead Eugene only looks at him searchingly. It’s is as if he is checking for any sort of deception or deceit, but when he finds none he rises from their seat with both his arms holding securely onto Merriell.

Merriell cannot help the surprised noise that escapes him as Eugene picks him up, drawing the attention of several of the attendants who wolf-whistles at them as Eugene marches them out of the main room.

“Taken,” Eugene whispers hotly in his ear, and if Merriell wasn’t turned on before he definitely was now.

When they get to Merriell’s dressing room, Eugene puts Merriell down to shut the door. Taking advantage of Eugene fumbling with the lock in his excitement, Merriell glides over to his station, barely catching the reflection of himself in the long, curly wig and carefully applied makeup in the stained mirror before he perches atop of the unstable wood.

The obvious arousal igniting in Eugene’s eyes as he turns to catch Merriell kick off his constricting underwear sends an excited tingle down Merriell’s spine. It makes him feel particularly daring, and Merriell opens up his legs to invite him in, knowing fully well how the fabric of his drapes across his legs just so.

The effect it has on Eugene is immediate.

Eugene practically jumps him, placing kisses everywhere and totally ruining Merriell’s makeup while spreading his legs apart to stand between them, pressing himself up against Merriell so their body are almost perfectly aligned.

A finger gently teasing over his balls and around his hole make Merriell gasp into Eugene’s mouth, and he pushes himself against the light pressure with a whine, wanting more, wanting Eugene inside of him.

Eugene tsk at him and whispers into his ear “So impatient, darling,” as he inserts a finger into him. Merriell keens at the sudden but welcome intrusion. Merriell is still pretty lax from that morning, and it doesn’t take long before Eugene inserts a second finger into him, carefully scissoring him open.

They’d done it often enough at this point that Eugene knew what he was doing. He was a quick learner and damn if he wasn’t fucking good as well. He knew exactly what to do to make Merriell turn to putty in his arms.

Merriell starts undoing the buttons at the back off his dress while Eugene works him over, but a hand atop of his stop him in his tracks, and Merriell looks up in surprise to meet Eugene’s dazed gaze.

“Keep it on,” Eugene says, voice raw, “Want to watch you like this.”

Merriell’s throat is suddenly very dry and he swallows in attempt to get some moisture back into his mouth. “Alright,” he whispers, and leaves the dress’ hanging loosely around his shoulders, having only managed to untie the top two buttons.  

Eugene keeps fingering him as he starts trailing kisses down Merriell half-exposed chest. He doesn’t stop before he is hovering over Merriell’s cock that is straining against the material of his dress. Eugene’s chin is gracing the very tip of it as he looks up at Merriell, his pupils blown as they takes in all of Merriell’s features.

“Ethereal,” He whispers as he strokes down Merriell’s thigh who feels himself blush underneath the attention. As if knowing exactly what effect he has on him, Eugene’s eye gleam with mischief before he pushes away the dress and takes Merriell down to the very root, and Merriell jerks from the overload of sensations of Eugene’s fingers still inside of him and his mouth sucking at his dicks.

“Fuck,” Merriell chokes, wanting desperately to move and gain more friction, but the hand Eugene wasn’t using to stretching him open keeps his hips firmly in place and stops him from thrusting into that sweet mouth of his. The sensations become almost overwhelming, and Merriell feels frustrated tears start to form as Eugene keeps him trapped in place as he carefully administers to him. Desperately, Merriell grasps onto the wonderful, ginger strands of hair for purchase, anything to keep him grounded enough to avoid him getting completely lost to the sensory input.  

“Gene. Eugene, I’m ‘bout to cum,” Merriell warns, and whines when Eugene pulls away, his aching hard dick red with strain from toeing that edge.  

“My God, how did I ever get someone like you?” Eugene says in wonder and tucks some stray hair from Merriell’s wig behind his ear, cupping his face gently.

“Eugene, please. I need to finish,” Merriell says, his voice strangled as he tries to keep a sob from escaping his throat.  

“Do you have any lube?”

 _‘Do I look like an amateur?_ ’ Merriell wants to retort, but he’s too afraid of what sounds might escape him if he opens his mouth, his dick throbbing painfully between his legs. Instead he silently reaches for the drawer sitting underneath the dresser with trembling fingers, easily finding the small tube hidden in a handkerchief.

Merriell can feel Eugene’s penis twitch against his inner thigh as he squeeze the gel onto shaking fingers, his dick a solid, slowly rocking weight against soft skin as Eugene waits for Merriell to touch him with the lubricant. Merriell is tempted to leave Eugene hanging, but he was just as desperate for this as Eugene was.

Making a quick process of spreading the lube over Eugene’s dick, Merriell kisses him hungrily, “Please, Gene. Need you inside of me.”

Eugene doesn’t have to be told twice, though he is incredibly careful as he pushes into Merriell, muttering comfort into his ear while they both adjust to the sensation. Merriell does his best to focus on his breathing rather than the very slight sting no amount of preparation could have prevented, before nodding his consent to Eugene who places a kiss on his forehead as he starts to move.

The movements are gentle at first, but it doesn’t take long before Eugene is rocking into him again and again, upsetting the few carefully placed makeup items on Merriell’s dressing table.

Strings of words are escaping Eugene’s mouth, but they are too hard for Merriell to follow who is too focused on meeting Eugene’s erratic thrusts. The alcohol wasn’t helping. Eugene seemed so caught up in his own pleasure, and Merriell wasn’t coordinated enough to meet him the way he wanted to. It was incredibly frustrating and Merriell is about to snap irritably when Eugene shift his grip on him and adjust their angle, finally hitting that spot that made Merriell moan.

A few more thrusts and Merriell’s wig is in disarray, he sweat beading at his forehead plastering the strands to his forehead uncomfortably. He was willing to bet his makeup was in ruin at this point, but he doesn’t really give a shit enough to care as every part of him jolts and tingles with pleasure as he finally cums all over his dress and himself.

Eugene finishes with a grunt not long after and empties ever last drop of himself into Merriell before melting into Merriell’s arms. His head rests on Merriell’s shoulder as he breathes heavily in tune with Merriell, who cradles his head close to him.

They stay like this for a long while until Eugene’s eyes blink back to life, impossibly clear as he looks up at Merriell. Merriell isn’t exactly sure what Eugene was seeing in that moment, knowing fully well that the female illusion was long since ruined by sweat and sex. The way Eugene’s thumb caress Merriell’s bottom lip and removes the last remains of smudged lipstick is so tender though, and affection and love for the man blossom in Merriell’s chest.

As if reading him like an open book, Eugene’s eyes crinkle at the corners happily. His fingers trail along Merriell’s cheekbone and up to his hairline, finding their way underneath the edges of his wig to push it away from Merriell’s head.

Merriell breathes a sigh of relief, revelling in how light and cool his head suddenly feels without the added, uncomfortable weight of the long hair. 

“You don’t have any more performances tonight I hope,” Eugene says as he places the hair down next to where Merriell is perched on the dresser.  

“Neither do I. You got cum all over my dress,” Merriell complains half-jokingly, examining the semen tainting the skirt and bodice. He hoped that some cold water was enough to prevent it from staining, he liked this dress goddammit.

Eugene chuckles sheepishly, as if feeling guilty he’d practically begged Merriell to keep the dress on which had lead to its’ eventual demise. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he says, and pecks Merriell’s lips apologetically, “I’ll buy you a new one.” 

“Nah,” Merriell says, trying to sound blasé in his dismissal. He didn’t like having stuff handed to him, having always had to work for everything in his life – his apartment, his dresses and wigs, his makeup – no matter how poor quality or how cheap those things were, they were his and he earned them. Eugene was not going to become another sugar daddy to him, he loved him too much for that. “I’ll get the stains out, it ain’t completely ruined yet.”

Eugene’s face softens, and that small smile returning to his face as if he knows exactly what Merriell is thinking, “Then how can I make it up to you?”

“How about next time…” Merriell starts slowly, as what he is about to propose wasn’t a fantasy he’d had for the longest time now, and slides off his chaotic workstation so he can invade Eugene’s space properly before leaning in as he whispers hotly in his ear, “I get to dress you up all pretty and you let me fuck you?”


End file.
